Drunk
by the infamou5 c0pyc4t
Summary: After Chizuru gets her drunk but fails to take advantage, Orihime stumbles down the streets and winds up at the Kurosaki household, where Isshin has also knocked back a few drinks... MA


**Drunk**

Chizuru chortled to herself. All was finally going as she planned; Tatsuki was busy with work, and Orihime happily accepted the invitation to accompany the sneaky redhead to her empty home. Chizuru was all a-twitter from what she had in store for her beloved 'Hime! All it would take was a few hard hits of saké from her parents' stash – they were out for the evening, which tied in perfectly to the pervert's plans.

"'Hime~!" she sang, prancing out of the kitchen with a palate of a bottle deceptively marked 'Juice' – it was really strong saké – two saucer cups, and some pockey treats. Her guest was sitting at the table, looking around and musing how neat and tidy the Honshou family kept their home; everything was so velvety-red, just like Chizuru's hair, which Orihime complimented each time she'd ever come to Chizuru's home. "I bought some special juice," Chizuru half-lied, for it was a special beverage. She laid out the platter in the center of the table, though she made sure the bottle was closest to her guest. "Let's drink the whole bottle!" Of course, the sneaky hostess planned to hardly take a sip, wanting this whole experience to be soberly remembered.

Orihime arched an eyebrow; Chizuru was already, in all haste, filling up a saucer for her. "But Chizuru-chan, we can't drink it all." The saucer was eagerly pushed into her hand. "If it's special, shouldn't we drink it when everyone else is here?" She then looked down at her drink, the fluid mostly clouded and strong smelling. She was not so gullible as to not question the smell of alcohol, but Chizuru immediately assured her that it was just the exquisiteness of this beverage.

Chizuru poured her own drink, albeit reluctantly and far less than what she had given to Orihime; Orihime's had been filled to the brim while hers was hardly past halfway. She truly disliked the bitter taste of alcohol of any kind, but by any means necessary, she would be the first to see Orihime's beautiful face twisting in beautiful pleasure. "Just drink, 'Hime," she urged excitedly, blushing profusely. She gently clinked her saucer with Orihime's before tilted her head back and downing the dislikeable drink. Through sheer willpower, she managed not to cringe in the slightest and eagerly awaited Orihime to follow suit.

Though having her own holdups, only able to take Chizuru's word that this was juice and not alcohol – Tatsuki advised her many times before not to be so eager to trust, especially when it came to Honshou Chizuru – Orihime smiled nervously, brought the drink to her lips, and consumed in a few, sputtering gulps.

It took a few repeats, but unlike Chizuru – who had stopped drinking during her third helping, which was five drinks ago – Orihime decided that she actually liked the bitter flavor of saké… Oops! 'Juice'.

There was a warmth pooling in her stomach, and it made her feel light and bubbly. Her cheeks had a pinkish hue, and she could not help giggling inexplicably. Why was she so lightheaded, she wondered? This really was special juice to make her feel so happy, carefree, and bold.

All traits were just what Chizuru was hoping for. Slyly, she slipped a hand over Orihime's; the intoxicated teen glanced down as if confused by the mingling of their fingers. "'Hime," cooed the sneaky redhead, "would you like to spend the night? I wouldn't want you to catch a cold walking home in your school uniform." Tomorrow, there was no school, so it was the perfect chance for Chizuru to invite her longtime beloved to stay over and possibly indulge and find some things out about herself that she never knew before.

Orihime swayed drunkenly. Then she smile and held up a hand in remission. "Sorry, Chizuru-chan," she slurred. It almost seemed like she was about to topple out of her chair. "I think I should go home." She looked at her wristwatch for the time, and it took her a moment to realize that she wasn't wearing one today. Well, since the streetlights had already started to flicker on, it was still getting pretty late. Her vision was dizzying, and she didn't want to stagger her way through the dark like this.

"Before you make up your mind," Chizuru purred, certain that the final act of her scheme would hook Orihime with wonderment and excitement, "let me show you a little something that I picked up the other day." Though she hated to leave Orihime's side, she eagerly hastened to her room to change.

As if not hearing Chizuru's proposal, Orihime stumbled to her feet, accidentally knocking the chair over, and headed to the door. "Sorry, Chizuru-chan," she apologized in a voice that was too quiet to be heard upstairs. She opened the front door and went out. "I… need to get home."

It was several minutes before Chizuru came hurrying downstairs, unaware of Orihime's departure. She hopped out in a cat costume that was very flattering; her chest bounced when she moved, and her thighs were generously exposed. She winked, thinking that Orihime was there to wink at. " _Nyaa_ ~, do you have some milk for me?"

There was no one there, no one to respond.

This disheartened Chizuru only for a moment before she squealed in delight. "Oh! Is it 'hide and seek', my lovely 'Hime?!" At once, she was on all fours, her costume's tail swishing high in the air as she wagged her backside. "I'm going to find you~! And when I do, I'm going to 'scratch' you for being so naughty!"

Sadly, she hunted throughout the house hours before she realized that she was on a wild goose chase.

At the Kurosaki clinic, all were asleep; well, all were asleep except the exhausted head of household, who unwound from a busy day with a can of beer. He hadn't enough to be full-on drunk – those were occasions when he was not on call – but he was tipsy. Decision-making was influenced, but alone at night and at home, that didn't account for much; it just meant he could enjoy just about whatever was on the television. He relaxed in his pajamas: loose, striped bottoms and a plain white t-shirt with a towel across the back of his neck. He'd stay up for another hour, and then call it a night.

That was the plan, but for a clatter that rose outside.

Isshin perked up and looked towards the window. Nothing… Probably a cat, he thought, but he also did not think it best to simply dismiss an odd noise. In a house that practically gushed Reiatsu, even small occurrences could turn out to be a danger.

Setting aside his beer can, Isshin walked to the front door and opened it without hesitation. He leaned out and glanced side-to-side. No cats, but there was a girl, stumbling amongst the trash left out on the curb to be picked up later. And not just any girl, Isshin realized suddenly. That was the lovely, buxom Inoue Orihime! The best candidate – according to his Yuzu – to be the newest Kurosaki sister!

"Inoue?"

Orihime picked her head up, face deeply flushed as she looked in the direction of the voice. Her vision was blurred, but there was no mistaking the residence of her dear Kurosaki-kun. And at the door, peering out at her, was Kurosaki-kun! She smiled dreamily at him, but then noticed that the blaze of orange was missing from the top of his head. And as she formed a clearer vision, she realized that she was entirely wrong. This was Kurosaki-san! The energetic – if not insane – father of Ichigo and the Kurosaki twins. In her current, more-wistful-than-usual mood, she wasn't terribly disappointed that it wasn't the thoughtful and lovely son waving her over, asking if she was alright.

"Hello, Kurosaki-san," she said, stumbling over, giggling a little while pointing over to the trash, announcing that she had a little bump. "I was just at Chizuru-chan's~." As if Kurosaki-san was supposed to know who that was.

Isshin knew Orihime well enough to know that she was something of an airhead; not stupid, just someone who let their imagination run away with them. But he also knew the signs of an underage intoxicated. Working at a private clinic in the suburbs, he had met with a few cases before. It was best not to let Orihime walk home in such a state. He went out to meet her, to usher her in and offer sanctuary while the alcohol ran its course. "Come inside," he told her, putting on his rare look of concern.

Just like Kurosaki-kun~. Orihime giggled at the thought and memory – altered to suit her image of a suave Ichigo – of when he invited her in. She wouldn't refuse this time because, for all the fuzzy happiness, her legs felt tired and unsteady. "Thank you, Kuros~ah!" She stumbled again and fell towards Isshin. Quick instincts from all the bouts with his son, Isshin made to catch her, crouching and bringing his hands up.

He indeed caught her, but in so doing, wound up with two handfuls of soft, young, and BIG breasts! A jolt was sent through him from handling them. It'd been so long – Masaki – since he genuinely held a pair; women didn't come to him for a breast exam, after all. And being that this wasn't even a medical visit, his professionalism played no part! His fingers couldn't help but give a squeeze, though he chided himself for doing so.

Any other girl would have been embarrassed, recoiled timidly, or swung around with a well-deserved slap. But Orihime – especially a drunken Orihime – just looked up at him, flashed a huge smile, and apologized for being so clumsy.

" _Uh_ , it's no problem," Isshin said, clearing his throat and looking elsewhere as Orihime righted herself. Already, he felt the effects of such intimate touching, and the loose pajamas he wore were certainly not about to hide this fact. He stepped aside and patted her back, hurrying to get her inside. She thanked him, and he laughed in response, saying that it was no problem for a friend of Ichigo's.

Both were inside and behind a locked front door the next moment. Orihime took off her shoes and padded her way into the house that smelled so much like Ichigo. It wasn't her first time; she'd started to come here often, usually when no one else was home. Yes, it was a well-kept secret, but she and Ichigo had formed a more involved relationship that was not yet defined beyond 'friends with benefits'.

In her stupor, she glanced up the stairs. How nice it would have been to just go up there, tell Ichigo how good she was feeling, and then share that feeling. But she could not. Even in her stupor, after being told that his kids were asleep, Orihime would not intrude.

Therefore, on Isshin's direction, she was led to the living room; she was kept ahead of the father, and for good reason: he didn't want her taking notice that his pajamas formed a very potent tent at his groin.

He looked down shamefully at his erection. This was a girl – albeit, a very well filled-out one – and someone his daughter looked to like an older sister. His son – as far as he knew – saw her as a very close and dear friend. Reacting this way was unbecoming! Though looking at her, he'd have to be blind not to be reminded of his dear, late wife.

" _Wah_ ~ Your house is so nice, Kurosaki-san," mused the girl as she looked around in wonder, as if it was her first time here.

She even acted like Masaki. Isshin pursed his lips, sweat pouring down his brow as he looked towards the 'MASAKI FOREVER' poster that he had refused to take down after all these years. What would his Sun say about his behavior?!

He winced.

She'd probably laugh and playfully chide him. She'd probably go over to Orihime and dazzle her. She'd probably press in close and…

Isshin shook his head. Too vivid! Too vivid! But Masaki never was one to be shy or explorative. And looking again at Orihime, it was hard not to have such thoughts. The girl had bowed over the couch instead of taking a seat, leaning on her elbows and mumbling with a slurred voice that she loved 'DROP IN!', as it was playing right now on the TV.

" _Bwahaha_!" the man on the TV laughed, and Orihime made an imitation.

"Oh! It is perhaps the greatest show!" declared Isshin, overlooking the hard erection that he hid behind the kitchen counter. "Me and my Yuzu-chan, we usually watch it together! But it's a late showing! She has to be in bed."

Orihime looked over her shoulder at him; a very tempting glance in her position. Her ass jutted backward – doubtfully intentional, but nonetheless alluring. "I would have liked her to watch it with us," she told him, and then looked up with a concerned expression. "But it is good that she's asleep now. 'DROP IN!' can get spooky, and she might not be able to get to sleep ever again! And then she'd get addicted to coffee and drink all the coffee in the world!"

"I get afraid of that too!" Isshin said with a gasp of like-mindedness. He started to shuffle around the kitchen, careful not to wag his tent pole into any hard surfaces. "But speaking of coffee…" He took out a can of instant coffee. "I'll make us some. It'll do you good."

Orihime waved at him, shaking her head. "No thank you," she said. "I drank a lot already with Chizuru-chan."

Isshin blinked. Whoever this Chizuru-chan was, she did not seem like a good influence. He didn't know the details, but if Orihime – after coming from Chizuru-chan's house – was in this state, something had gone on that shouldn't have. Well, he could get to the bottom of it later. Right now, he'd focus on making some coffee to sober her up.

He prepped the pot, turned on the stove, and grabbed a mug, all while his cock swished around in front of him. Good thing the television was distracting the girl, he thought with a sense of dread, looking down at the shameful protrusion. Again, he looked to the poster of Masaki, saddened and stressed, chewing his bottom lip while his eyes goofily welled up from the tension. He could see how Yuzu thought Orihime was a desireable candidate to join the family, but his thoughts were turning rather impure as he imagined it: Orihime moving in with his son, walking around casually in much-too-casual attire that accentuated her bountiful bosom in ways that made him think back lustfully to his days as captain, always around his buxom lieutenant.

He bit down harder on his lip, giving a soft groan towards his mounting frustration. His cock hadn't felt this hard in so long! Heck, how long had it even been since he laid with a woman?! He was able to suppress the urge with the undying love for his wife, but one fistful of young and plentiful breasts undid his fortified commitment. He'd not be proud of it, he thought while staring down at his tented bottoms, but he'd wrangle this lust out on his own… Now! He'd slip away while the water boiled, excuse himself to the restroom, and use the momentum of recent happenings to propel him to release!

Pointing sheepishly, but with his best façade of cheery and likeable – in his opinion – father, Isshin started, "I'm going to quickly…"

He trailed off when he looked at Orihime again. She was still bent over the back of the couch, but her attention, it seemed, strayed from the TV in front of her. Moaning lazily, her hand crawled and fiddled underneath her skirt. Isshin blinked, wondering if he was seeing correctly. Had his intense imaginations suddenly projected outward to form a very vivid hallucination? His throat was dry as he swallowed. It couldn't be…

But it was. He realized that when the skirt shifted, the long legs opened, and the vantage point exposed just the briefest hint of her white cotton panties being pushed to the side so that her sweeping fingers might touch the sensitive, pink folds underneath.

What caused this? Isshin would guess maybe she had far too much to drink – and that was true – but what put her over the edge was that the spot she was leaning over at the couch was the exact spot that Ichigo had occupied before going to bed. His strawberry smell had overwhelmed her intoxicated state, and she felt the swell of lust. He was right upstairs, she thought longingly. _Just trudge up there!_

"Kuro…saki…kun…" The skirt, for whatever reason, was pushed up over the swell of her ass, and Isshin was given the most exposing show he had seen. Orihime had pushed her panties to one side so that her slender fingers could caress, and then plunge into her sex. The lovely, auburn hair that adorned her snatch was trimmed back to short, well-managed curls.

 _Just like Masaki!_ Isshin shook his head of the thought. He should not be doing this! He didn't want to embarrass the girl by addressing what she was doing, yet, despite his earlier plan to go to the bathroom and relieve his cock, he could not look away. If anything, the tension in his pants – if at all possible – had grown to unsurpassable rigidness! He twitched and pumped, and the very tip was starting to get moist from the surfacing of his lust.

" _Ah_!" Orihime bowed over the couch, shoving her face into the back cushion to inhale as much of Kurosaki-kun as she could. She turned her face to the side to breathe, and there was a silly look of satisfaction and joy on her scrunched features. "Kurosaki-kun," she slurred. "You smell so nice~." Her fingers dislodged themselves from her squeezing channel to stroke her nub; she responded to the ensuing jolts of pleasure with high yips and yelps. And while it felt good, her small fingers were no substitute to being filled with her guy's meat.

Isshin didn't know how it happened, but he wound up on the other side of the kitchen, almost directly behind Orihime, and unabashed of his protruding member. "I, uh…" He rubbed his uncomfortably sweaty palms on his pants and looked around. He glanced then to the staircase. What were the odds of one of his kids stumbling down and catching this sight? It was a parent's nightmare! He should just get Orihime decent, lay her on the couch to sleep the rest of the night away, and then lock himself in his room. But how to get her decent?

It seemed like a lot of work. Staring at her exposed and fondled snatch – it blossomed invitingly – he considered the situation. It had been so long, he thought again. And… she reminded him of his Masaki. He thought poorly of himself, very poorly, and then blamed it on the beer as he made his decision.

He reached for the elastic waist of his pajama bottoms. He wasn't about to risk taking them off entirely. Instead, he pulled out the front as much as he could, and then drew it down over his thick erection. The freedom was very welcomed, and his cock thumped excitedly. He continued to pull down until he could tuck the waistband behind his balls for full freedom.

There he stood, erection jutting freely outward and Orihime none the wiser. He briefly considered the consequences of what was about to happen, what might happen. But the desire was too much! The girl was doubled over in front of him in a manner that begged for him! She was even calling his name – though she meant the younger Kurosaki male.

He scooted forward very carefully. He stopped when he lingered just at her entrance. Carefully, he took aim; he didn't want to be found out by her hand before sliding in. It certainly seemed that it would be that easy; just by looking, he could see how wet she was.

 _Forgive me, Masaki~_

And then he heaved himself forward. With such precision, he met and plowed into her hole in a single thrust. Where the son had only ventured before, now the father made his presence: much thicker and much longer. His cock forced aside her convulsing walls like a conqueror plundering a new land. He stopped only because he met with the resistance of her cervix.

Orihime didn't know what was happening. In the midst of her indulging, she did feel a presence behind her, yet the waves of ecstasy had numbed her reaction. For a moment even, she thought – maybe wished – that Kurosaki-kun had materialized behind her to observe and then take her. But then the penetration happened; hard and fast! Deep and quick! The methods of her digits were no match to the heavy surge of whomever it was who thrust into her. She inhaled, shuddering violently, when the head pushed against her, and gasped loudly when the rest followed with a bump that pushed her further across the couch until her thighs were flush against it.

Isshin clasped his hands on each side of her curvy waist, cementing his stay in her undulating channel. His eyes crossed upward, a look of nostalgic bliss. _So long~ Way too long~_ The nubile girl was so snug; with some guilty comparison, he did not remember Masaki fitting him this tightly, not after three kids… His cock, coated in the essence of this young beauty, squeezed firmly; he couldn't help himself. While Orihime tried to collect herself after the shock of initial entry, he crawled back, watching his length drag wetly from her clenched snatch, listening to the slide and the way the girl's high-pitched moan accompanied it, and let little more than the head linger past her threshold. With much anticipation, he waited before the plunge.

"Kuro-Kurosaki-san!" gasped Orihime, mustering enough sense to look back over her shoulder. If it was a plea to stop, it was a bad idea; she looked no less sexier than when those big, glossy eyes were peering back at him. If he was to stop, he quickly rationalized, just once more! He charged back into her with a grunt, again knocking hard against her cervix and causing the girl to arch her back and cry upward. He expected her to cry for him to stop – which would be hard to do after this second dip – but surprisingly, her footing shifted, a move to better accommodate his girth. The father did not fully understand, too addled to really understand her intentions. If she wanted him out, with great regret, he'd oblige, but when she looked over her shoulder again during this pause, even buzzed, he could recognize the longing in her gaze.

"Orihime-chan," he grunted out, taking a firmer hold of her, and then moving her body in time with his starting thrusts. He was shallow and careful at first, giving her body some time to get used to his presence. Her moans were softer than the earlier yell; calm, patient, but encouraging. "You are so beautiful," he said lustfully.

In the midst of her moans, she gave half a laugh and awkwardly thanked him; her speech was less slurred. Normally, she'd be chatty; she certainly was with Kurosaki-kun when they coupled; taking advice from Tatsuki, and having the imagination that she did, she was fond of role-play – though Ichigo always reciprocated awkwardly and most times, unenthusiastically. His dad would certainly have been more involved, but there was no need for role-play at this moment. The circumstances were exciting enough: her lover's father, plowing her slow and hard while his kids slept above them. Orihime bit down on her bottom lip to keep from wailing.

Isshin stopped altogether, deep inside Orihime. The tactics changed; the pause seemed to be an intermission between tempos. The slow and deep pace changed to hard and fast. He pulled out more than before, once again daring to retreat only to his head before forcing his way back inside. The squelching noises were quickly lost under Orihime's raising moans. Despite her best efforts to keep her lips closed, her throat echoed with noises responding to the deep penetrations.

Face screwed in hard pleasure, Orihime made a grab at the couch. She'd never been taken this forceful before. Her whole body shuddered with each thrust; even in their support, her heavy breasts swung beneath her. There were a few thrusts that were pointedly sharp. Catching on, Orihime lifted a leg upward, swinging her knee onto the couch to provide Isshin better and deeper access. Sure enough, in this altered position, Isshin pulled back almost all the way, and then returned with a vengeance. Losing control for a split second, the girl arched her back and cried out loud, her tongue stretching outward with her scream. Her cervix pressed inward from the cockhead crammed so tightly in.

Isshin breathed a relieved sigh when he saw his pelvis pressed soundly against her cleft. His black pubic hair mingled with her shorter, auburn hair. He stayed like that for a moment, reeling it in as a permanent memory. And then he continued. He was wise enough not to reach so deep again; it'd be a miracle if all his kids were still asleep. He'd have to hurry; if they did wake up, he had seconds before one of them wandered downstairs to see what the noise was. He could put the blame on the TV if he wasn't caught ravaging the buxom Orihime.

Orihime felt Isshin's tempo increase. He was nearing the end; Ichigo was the same way before he climaxed. The thought of Ichigo once again sent a wash of guilt to the pit of her stomach, yet it stoked the fire of her loins. This was wrong. This was so wrong! Kurosaki-kun's father was inside of her, so very deep inside of her! Bowing her head, she sobbed with pleasure.

"Kurosaki-san! Kurosaki-san!"

Her insides were caving in around him, squeezing tightly and hitching his pace. She concentrated on the wrongness of it. It sobered her up quite nicely. Kurosaki-kun's father was fucking her!

"I'm cumming!"

Isshin knew that before she announced it. She had become so much tighter as her muscles contracted. He saw the toes of her socks curl while her hips jutted towards him. His eyes crossed as he looked upward. "Masaki~" he wheezed. "Forgive me~!" He pushed in deep and fired off inside the girl, hot and sticky streamers of white gushing into her womb in powerful bursts. He twitched inside of her a while more until he was certain he was spent. And even then, he stayed inside, his cock slowly losing its potency. Her tunnel continued to clamp down on him, and when he lost enough rigidness, he slid smoothly out of her. Groaning in satisfaction, he took a step back and wearily stared at Orihime's hole. She gaped a little, his seed emerging to drip onto the floor. He'd have to clean it up, he made a mental note; can't let Yuzu see it…

Still dazed and seeing bursts of white in front of her, Orihime took a moment to recover. She'd never cum so hard. More than that, she never knew what it was like to harbor a man's release! It felt so warm swimming inside her. She could imagine millions of little Isshin-faced (a few Ichigo-Yuzu-Karin-faced) surging around inside her belly. The image brought a exhausted grin to her face.

Strength returning, she carefully put her panties back in place and rose to her feet. She turned to Kurosaki-san – she couldn't help noticing that he'd yet to put his deflated cock away, and thought of how it was in her not more than three minutes ago – and smiled when she could bring her eyes up to his. What was there to say? Isshin cleared his throat, also seeming to have sobered up after this ordeal. He scratched the back of his head, searching for words.

"Thank you, Kurosaki-san," Orihime chirped with a deep bow that confused the father. She straightened again, posture and attitude returned to her usual demeanor. "I'm feeling much better now."

Isshin made a noise of confusion. Was that supposed to be the end of it? Suddenly aware of himself, he quickly put his penis back to underneath his pajamas, and then asked, "Are… are you sure?"

Orihime nodded. She stretched her arms overhead – Isshin, even sated, appreciated the subtle show of her breasts – and then slackened. She certainly looked refreshed, agleam and almost glowing with a soft splash of pink coloring her cheeks. Such a childlike look; Isshin could hardly believe she was currently carrying his load. A sensation of dread suddenly sunk in. His load? What if…? What if…?! He couldn't even complete the nightmarish possibility!

But those worries were not a concern to Orihime. She understood that it could happen – probably likely, after how much filled her – but she wasn't the worrying kind; not about stuff like this. Collecting herself and straightening out her uniform, Orihime moved to leave the Kurosaki household. Isshin watched her, oddly at a loss for words at her flamboyant candor.

Waving out from the threshold, Orihime gave her goodbyes and goodnights. "Tell Kurosa…" She cut herself off and giggled, and then amended herself. "Tell your son I said goodnight." And then she was gone.

Isshin was left scratching his head. He looked at his can of beer. Still a little leftover… A part of him wanted to think this was a very vivid dream. In the end, he shrugged and downed the rest in one gulp. He'd need that and more to relax now…


End file.
